Summer Burns Red
by Unbeautifully-Broken
Summary: Kimball Cho is a very serious-minded person. Summer Edgecombe is not.


A/N: So I know I have a ton of other things I should be updating, but I felt so motivated after Thursday's episode to write this that I just couldn't help myself. For those of you that read my other stories, please enjoy this while I work on updating those for you. Also, as this idea came to me and was written in one night, it has been edited to the best of my ability. Disclaimer: There may be mistakes, but they're all mine. The Mentalist is not.

Warning: Very suggestive. Mild language. Nothing shameful. :D

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><p><strong>Summer Burns Red<strong>

Kimball Cho was a very serious-minded person. It wasn't because life had hardened his heart, or that he'd been raised a certain way; it was because he chose to be. He'd seen and done enough to know that regardless of the obstacles life could throw a person's way, anyone was capable of making choices. Up to that moment, he had made his, and never second-guessed a single one.

He would carefully weigh the pros and cons of everything, but wouldn't dwell on a decision so long as to cloud his judgment. If he began to think in tangents, he would simply pull out a book to read, and wait until his mind was quiet before he would think again. Patient, calm, impassive Kimball Cho.

Joining the CBI had been one of the simplest decisions of his life. Before that, leaving a life of crime and never turning back had been even easier. Terrifying, but surprisingly easier than even selecting a breakfast cereal.

Choosing to follow Lisbon had not required any thought at all. Her firm, certain handshake had been enough. Looking into her face, he'd seen a soft, pleasant smile and was instantly sure of where they stood. They would work well together, and even become friends with time. Lisbon was simultaneously honest, kind and authoritative. Yes, he would like her.

Patrick Jane had plenty of crazy ideas. Many times, he pushed Cho's patient boss to her breaking point, only to bring her back to safety again with consistently good results. Jane always seemed to have the answer, but Cho knew that deep down, the man was struggling to keep his mind busy; Jane needed to keep himself from thinking of the family he'd lost and would never have again. So when Jane played his jokes, his pranks, Cho decided to go along with them. When Jane concocted a scheme to capture a killer, Cho backed him up. Most of the time. And when Jane needed nothing but quiet, because he was thinking of _them _again, well...Cho could be silent like no one else.

Elise? Another easy decision. She was intelligent, gentle and soft-spoken. They had many things in common, and seemed compatible enough. For a little while, he figured she had been another well thought-out choice. He even felt a little proud of himself, that she had wanted someone like him. Until she didn't.

He thought back to that last day. They'd gotten out of his bed, and she'd said she was going to take a quick shower. He'd dressed and gone to his living room to turn on the TV for the morning's news. After a while, Elise emerged and said she was hungry. Together, they stood in his kitchen looking into his pantry at two different boxes of cereal. Without thinking, he'd reached for one, while she'd reached for the other. There was a funny, half-second pause. Elise probably hadn't noticed the quick look he gave her, but he knew they both felt that things had changed. Within an hour, she was leaving his home and he knew it would be for the last time. He closed the door behind her and returned to bed. It had all come down to breakfast.

The team didn't ask what had happened, but he was sure they had noticed that Elise never came to join him during his lunch hour anymore. Maybe he even looked a little sad, but he wasn't. He was merely confused. Hadn't he loved her? Why didn't he know? The questions kept coming, so he read six books that week.

On the morning he had read the last page of the sixth book, he closed it with that feeling of finality that always came with a closing sentence. Once again, his mind was calm, and he reasoned that he had cared for Elise, but had not loved her. And he had not loved her because being with her was too easy.

Working for the CBI put his life in danger on a daily basis; working for Lisbon, the good soul that she was, had earned him his share of threats. Helping Jane could cost him his job (or his sanity). And even though he didn't want to, he ate the bland, bran-flavored cereal, because he just didn't have Rigsby's metabolism.

It was true. He made things more difficult for himself _on purpose_. His life's challenges were ones he had chosen to endure, which made them less daunting and more rewarding in the end.

Being with Elise had not challenged him, and thus, had not rewarded him either. Either of them, really. After he realized the truth, he was able to go a few days without picking up a book.

Then something had happened, and he was faced with the hardest choice he'd ever had to make.

Summer Edgecombe. At first glance, she was obviously attractive. She carried herself with such confidence that a stranger wouldn't doubt her perfection. Obnoxiously outspoken and still somehow alluring. Not his type. Not his type at all.

Summer was a working girl. Maybe someone he would have been interested in before he'd turned his life around, but that wasn't him anymore. Was it?

He was trying to decide. She was actually demanding it at that very moment, in an elevator, leaving him with nowhere to run. Did he like her? His mind spun with the idea that he might. Worry had pressed in on him from all directions that very same day, when she'd come so close to being hurt, or worse. He thought of Lisbon, how much he cared about her...and it was still easier to imagine her, rather than Summer, in harm's way. He wanted to leave. He asked if he could. Summer refused.

There were no books, no quiet places around. There was no time to weigh his options. He would not have a chance to make an educated, well thought-out decision. The words slipped from his mouth; he admitted to liking her. She slapped him, and then immediately apologized. She was crazy. He _really _liked her.

Before he could comprehend that she had moved, her mouth was on his. His arms were around her, crushing her to him, a second before he even thought about reaching out. His hands gripped the back of her jacket as he pulled her further into the elevator, barely registering the doors close behind her. All thoughts occurred to him long after he'd acted, long before he'd had a chance to decide if any of it was a good idea.

They were in his bedroom. Her jacket, her shirt, and her shoes were discarded around his house, and his own shirt lay rumpled just inside his door. Summer advanced on him, pushing him back until he was against his bed. Drawing her lips back from his, she smiled crookedly, her eyes taking him in. Her fingers started at his belt, then slowly climbed up his chest. They stopped just at his heart, and she pushed against him with her fingertips. He sank down onto his bed, and she crawled on top of him, never taking her eyes away from his.

"I'm not going to pay you." His words rang out like a scream, and Summer stopped. The fire in her gaze was momentarily extinguished.

"Pay me? For what?" she asked, voice sultry and low.

"Sex. I'm not going to pay you to have sex with me right now." Calm, impassive, collected Cho. And she was suddenly an angry, cruel, emblazoned Summer. The heat of her gaze scorched him, but he didn't falter. Not even a line could be found on his face.

"You think...I expect you to pay me? For sex? You think I'm doing this for money?" She seemed to recoil completely, and then she was on the other side of the room. He ignored the hurt in her voice and sat up to watch her. His mind was slowly coming back to him, no longer muddled by lust.

"Isn't that how a business transaction works? You sell me something, I pay you for it?" He didn't move. She didn't, either, but she didn't need to. She could kill with the look in her eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" was all she could seem to force out.

"What's wrong with _you_? I told you I wouldn't pay before services were rendered. No harm done. You're free to leave, and I don't owe you anything." Hardly having to try now.

A minute passed, and he watched Summer go through the seasons. She withered like fall, was still as winter, and seemed to come to life again as though it were spring. Then the hottest, angriest of summers spread through her, and he knew the exact moment he'd feel the pain of a scorching burn.

She was there in three strides, and she slapped him for the second time in an hour. He didn't flinch, but the force of the blow moved his head slightly to the side. Saying nothing, he turned his face to look into hers again.

"I know what you're trying to do, Kimball," she said, her voice infused with passion, "and I think it's bullshit. You think you can just piss me off and I'll walk away, and I won't want my job back. You think I'm going to give up, and just let you hire some other stupid little bitch to handle your dirty work for you. But I've worked for this job. I've risked my ass for you and your precious cases so you can catch the bad guys." She leaned down so that she was in his face, an inch away, and the heat of her breath reminded him of desire he'd felt minutes before. He blocked it out immediately. He was on course now, and he was making his decisions rapidly. This conversation needed his undivided attention if he was to choose wisely.

Summer seemed to notice his line of thinking and smirked. Lowering her head, she pressed her lips against his neck. Her fingers delved into his hair at the base of his neck, fingernails clawing at his skin. Cho reached out to place one hand on each of her hips, and gently pushed her back. Summer sensed that she was losing, and tried to latch on tighter.

"That won't get you your job back. I've already made my decision. Anyway, your position has been filled."

She launched herself back again, and it left his skin cold.

"How can you be such an asshole? You know, I thought you were a good guy. I thought you were different. But then, what does a slut know about people, besides how to screw them?" She said the last part with a bitter laugh, looking up at the ceiling, hands on her hips. She smiled to herself. "Well, congratulations. This was the worst sexual encounter of my life. That puts you on the bottom of a very long list. It's pathetic, really." She knelt down to retrieve his shirt, then threw it at him. "You better get dressed before another whore comes into your life and tries to sleep with you. Maybe she'll be the type that doesn't ask you to pay, and you'll actually get to second base."

And that was all he needed. Summer would be over soon.

"That's your problem, Summer. Your whole life revolves around making things harder for yourself than they have to be. I'm like that, too." And it was true. They were nothing alike, except for that. He determined that was what he had been looking for. He kept his face blank.

She stopped to glance at him, but only for a moment. Then she was searching the room for some lost article of clothing.

"What are you talking about?"

"You could do so many things, and you waste your time putting yourself out there for people to walk all over you."

"Really, now? So what do you suggest I do?" she sighed, exasperated.

Cho blinked. "If you come here, I'll tell you."

Summer looked at him, and he knew she was trying to determine if he was making fun of her. Even though he thought he was putting on his most unreadable face, she saw something in it that drew her closer. She crossed her arms, and he had to look up at her from his spot on the bed. Their knees brushed.

"I'm here. What is it, then?"

Cho lowered his eyes until he gazed straight ahead, and slowly placed his hands on Summer's hips. He thought, and thought, and then, he decided. And he knew he would never second-guess or regret what he would say.

"I want to have sex with you, but I don't want to pay you for it." There. That was easy enough. He looked up at her. She was rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, you and every other walking erection," she began, and started to back away. She dropped her arms and Cho's hands flashed out to grab her wrists. He was careful not to hurt her, or even pull her toward him; he only held her where she was, looking down at him. One eyebrow was cocked in curiosity. She was waiting for something better.

He searched but he literally had nothing planned. No conversation stored in his memory was resurfacing to assist him in finding the right words. So he decided he'd make things the hardest they'd been yet, and tell the whole wild, unfiltered truth. If this wasn't throwing himself under the hypothetical bus, he didn't know what was.

"If we sleep together, and I pay you, then business is all it will ever be. A transaction. If I pay you, that means I'll be the one enjoying myself, and you'll just be working. I don't want that. I want you to be here because you want to be here, not because you are trying to get your job back or because you think having sex with me _is_ your job. I don't want to be 'business as usual.' But I'd like to be your 'usual' if that's an option you'd consider." As soon as it was done, he had to force himself not to break eye contact. He tried to remember if he'd ever said such things to anyone. He hadn't.

"Kimball Cho, you made that sound like a totally boring marriage proposal." She laughed so loudly her body shook in his hands, and he instantly released her wrists.

"It wasn't. A marriage proposal. And stop laughing."

But she didn't seem to be able to. She laughed until her face turned bright red, and her blonde hair was everywhere, but somehow he felt it only added to how beautiful she really was. Now he was thinking like Rigsby. What had this woman done to him?

Summer laughed even as she lowered her head to kiss him. When the sound finally died away, he hesitantly lifted his arms to her waist, feeling the bare skin just above the hem of her pants. Her hands slid up his arms, slowing at his shoulders. Summer parted his lips with her tongue and he felt the last of his cool restraint slipping away.

She was on top of him again, one knee on either side of him, her hand slipping down to unbuckle his belt. Kicking off his shoes, he slipped his hands up to her chest, holding her with hands that would have trembled if he were anyone else. Summer whimpered a velvety sigh against his mouth.

Cho decided he would not treat this lightly. He wanted Summer to enjoy this, too. And the less she was wearing, the sooner he could start making her feel like she was totally wanted, and would be wanted even after this night was done. He reached around behind her back to find the clasp of her bra. In seconds, the lace and silk came tumbling down her arms; Cho took in the sight before him, Summer smoldering down at him, her warm body seeming to glow in front of his eyes. Reaching out, he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and raised himself up to meet her.

The nightmare came crashing over him like a wave as his back seemed to splinter into pieces. Pain rushed up his spine and down it, until even the muscles in his jaw and legs were locked awkwardly. He sprawled backward on the bed again, blinded and gasping, the soreness attacking him like a thousand shattering bullets.

"Kimball? What's wrong?" Summer nearly yelled, and he realized she'd been talking to him for several minutes without getting a response. He was finally able to squeeze out an answer.

"My back."

"Oh, my God! Why didn't you...why did we start...? Are you crazy!"

"'M sorry," he mumbled, groaning. He managed to turn to his side, his legs hanging off the bed at the knee. If he could just get them on the bed...

But Summer was there, already removed from him and walking around to the other side of his bed. She slipped her hands under his arms.

"I'm going to help you; don't try anything stupid."

It took some work, but she was able to maneuver his body so that he was lying on his chest. She sat beside him heavily, panting a little.

"Is that better?" she asked with a smile.

"Better."

"I know you're embarrassed, but you don't have to be. You're not old or anything, you were injured while being a hero. I know the difference."

"Thanks for the pep talk." He winced.

"Not working, huh? Well," she said, rising up onto her knees and positioning herself above him, "I'll just have to try something else."

She lowered her hands to his back, and slowly added pressure until he gasped.

"Good?" she asked, and he could feel her grinning.

"Yes. Good." Her hands stilled on his back, and he wondered if she was angry with him again, but after a moment, he felt heat against the skin of his back; Summer had lowered her body to his, and he could feel the heat from her skin. Her lips were beside his ear, her breath sweet and hot.

"You think you could get used to having me around?" Her voice was playful, but he heard the question, the insecurity. He gathered his nerve and grit his teeth before rolling onto his side; Summer moved to lay beside him, looking at him intensely. He suddenly knew just what he should say.

"It's not like I can get away." Summer's face broke into a brilliant smile. She moved closer to kiss him. It was soft and lingering, different than before. Cho felt his heart beat slowing, relaxation taking the place of pain. And just for her, without really trying, his lips spread into a smile of his own.

"Well, what do you know? Your face works." Summer laughed into his neck obnoxiously, throwing her arms and legs around him, but he didn't laugh with her.

Because Kimball Cho was a very serious-minded person. He'd walked away from a life of crime to become a CBI agent. He read often, smiled rarely and maybe liked to challenge himself more than was healthy.

And his favorite season was Summer.

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><p>Thanks for reading!<p>

There are people who don't like reviews. I've never met any, but I'm sure they're out there.

BUT I'm not one of those rare individuals, so review it :D


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